Frozen Slugs (Snowmen)
by Stixer111
Summary: Dearest Cecil, It should not be snowing in Night Vale. There should not be snowmen in Night Vale. Said Snowmen should not be moving. I'll try to find out more from this side. XOXO, Carlos. *Audible sigh* I suppose a scientists' work is never done.


_**A/N- Part of my Christmas Countdown 2015, a series of fics from different fandoms centering around different pairings. Prompt: Snowman. Thanks RandomOstrichChocolates (AO3). She gave me the prompt and I immediately thought Calvin and Hobbes, and she added acid, so I would consider this a joint venture. I am not caught up with WTNV at all by the way, so this, as far as I know, is canon compliant up to Worms.**_

* * *

 **Frozen Slugs (Snowman)**

The snow falls gently in the twilight, landing on roof tops and windowsills. A lone wolf howls in the distance. In the comfort of your cozy little home, the gaze of an unseen observer sends chills down your spine. All is well. Welcome, to Night Vale.

XXXX

Good evening dear listeners, I'm afraid I must start today's broadcast with some slightly alarming news. There have been several sightings of snowmen popping up around our sleepy little town. The Sheriff's secret police warns citizens to exercise caution and stay away from any snowmen in the area.

The Night Vale little league had its semifinals today at the community park. Seven year old Jeremiah Isaacs, pitcher for the Little Night Vale Sand shrews, was awarded the title of most valuable player. Isaacs, a sentient bowl of petunias, swayed triumphantly in the breeze during the awards ceremony.

"We are so proud of our little Jeremiah" said his mother, Kate Isaacs. "In order to prepare him for the team, his father and I played catch with him for an hour every day." she added, and demonstrated by scooping Jeremiah off of the stage and lobbing him gently to his father, who grunted and tossed him back.

"As you can see it helped him a lot." she said, giving our reporter a tight, forced smile. We here at Night Vale Community Radio are extremely supportive of community athletics, and would like to give young Jeremiah our heartiest congratulations as well as wish him luck in his future athletic pursuits, because nothing is quite as motivational as crushing societal pressure.

Beloved freedom fighter Tamika Flynn is organizing a student reading program at the library. Any student who can read ten books while fending off rabid, starved librarians will receive a four colored pen, magnetic book mark, and a chance to win a twenty dollar Pinkberry gift card.

I have received an update from the Sheriff's office: The Sheriff's Secret Police would like to remind all Night Vale citizens of the various Alarm and Alert codes used to categorize dangerous situations. Code Green, safe, day to day activities may take place, unless specifically informed otherwise. Code Yellow, caution, day to day activities may continue... cautiously. Code Red, DANGER, actively avoid dangerous event or item. Code Blue, EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, Citizens are requested not to leave their homes. Code White, EVACATION RECCOMMENDED. Code *Angry Hawke Screeches* EVACUATION MANDATORY. That being said, the Sheriff's secret police has announced that the snowman situation had now reached Code Yellow levels.

There have been numerous reports of the snowmen moving position. John Peters, you know, the farmer, has reported six snowmen on his farm. They never move when you have your eyes on them, only staring at you with their soulless black eyes and grotesque grinning maws. They have cropped up in various other places in the city, and a ring of them now surround City Hall. More updates as events progress.

A new exhibit has opened up at the Night Vale Museum. The History of Night Vale is a fun and educational Exhibit set up by the Municipality. The museum provides blindfolds and earplugs for the Forbidden History section, and audio tours are available in English, Spanish, French, Arabic, and Modern Samoan. *cell phone beeps*

Oh excuse me listeners, it's Carlos. I texted him earlier to inform him of the snowman situation. He says: Dearest Cecil, It should not be snowing in Night Vale. There should not be snowmen in Night Vale. Said Snowmen should not be moving. I'll try to find out more from this side. XOXO, Carlos. * _Audible sigh_ * I suppose a scientists' work is never done.

And now, a word from our sponsors: Have you ever felt strange? No like really, really strange? Have you been experiencing blank spots in your memory? Do your hobbies suddenly feel unfamiliar? Do you feel uncomfortable in your own skin? Do your family and friends not recognize you? Are you sure that they are your family and friends? Are you really, truly sure? Eat a Snickers. You're not you when you're hungry.

Mayor Dana Cardinal has sent word to the press urging the citizens of Night Vale to remain calm in the face of this snowy terror. There has been no movement from the snowmen around city hall. The City remains in a Code Yellow state- * _knocking on glass_ * Oh, I think there's someone at the studio door. * _footsteps and the sound of a door creaking, followed by hushed whispers and an odd slithering sound_ *

Well, listeners, this is a little...unusual. For the first time in the history of Night Vale Community Radio, I have, in this studio a representative of the Sheriff's Secret Police. He, no she, no they, are indescribable. No really, all I can see of them is a shadowy cloak and beady, jewel-toned eyes. They have a message from the Sheriff's office.

* _A chorus of ominous chanting and hissing_ *

Oh, oh dear. Listeners, I was afraid of this. We are now at code red. The snowmen have begun to move. They slide down the Night Vale streets like frozen slugs, leaving a trail of half melted snow in their wake which burns everything it touches. Small animals have started to go missing. The ones around city hall have begun to close ranks, and I fear... oh, intern Robin has just informed me that there are three snowmen outside the main station door, and several more on the way. Well. I- I have to call Carlos. I'll leave you with the weather.

XXXX

 _ **You have reached the voicemail of Cecil Gershwin Palmer. That might seem like an easy thing to do, but think about how long you had to stay alive just to learn how a phone works and who I am. Congratulate yourself on that. Give yourself a vigorous pat on the back, and…don't forget to leave a message after the heavily distorted sample of a man saying "I just couldn't eat another bite."**_

 _ **I just couldn't eat another bite.**_

Hey Cecil, It's Carlos. I've been looking into the snowmen. I- it was difficult to find, well, any information about them, at all really. What I did find out is this, the snow they're made from is acidic, a byproduct of industrial pollution. DO NOT let anyone get near them. From what you told me, I think they function through some kind of hive mind, and if they're still melting at the rate you mentioned earlier, they may be on the lookout for replacement parts... and I don't think they're particular about where they get them. You have to tell your listeners to barricade themselves into their homes and not leave for any reason whatsoever. And Cecil... please be careful. Love you.

XXXX

Well dear listeners. It was an arduous battle, me, intern Robin, and the representative from the Sheriff's office against six murderous snowmen. The odds were stacked against us, the snowmen burning through whatever we threw at them. They were already half melted as I tried to slice through them with a broom from the storage cupboard. It did not go as well as I had planned. The representative from the Sheriff's office fought valiantly with... well I'm not quite sure what, they were too bright to look at directly, like the sun on a clear June day. However, it was intern Robin who saved the day. Fashioning a makeshift Molotov cocktail from the supplies in the storage cupboard she tossed it at the largest snowman, hitting it dead in the center of its chest. The creature splattered at the impact, and it began to slowly melt, emitting a long, high pitched shriek. To our surprise as it melted, the other snowmen began to melt too. Reports from all over town are confirming that the other snowmen began to melt at this time as well. Night Vale is free from this wintery menace. But we are not without our losses. Several citizens are reporting missing pets and damaged property. And Robin, brave, selfless Robin... when the Molotov hit the snowman, some of the resulting splatter landed on her face and hands. They burned through the skin, emitting a thin line of steam. She has been taken to the hospital, but is expected to make a full recovery.

Once again, our little town has survived great danger despite all odds. Take a moment, dear listeners, to look around you. Who are you with? Your friends? Your family? Your state mandated parole officer? It matters not, just remember that it is with them that you have survived this terrible encounter. Life is made up of little moments. Some exuberant, some terrifying. There are some that become stories we tell each other around the dinner table, but there are some that we may not have the chance to walk away from. What I mean to say, listeners, is talk to the important people in your life, tell them that you care about them, that you love them. In fact, I think I'll do that right now. * _Phone beeping in the background_ * Up next, the dulcet sound of the void returning your screams. * _muffled hello from the cellphone_ * Hello, Carlos? Hold on just a minute- As always, listeners, I bid you Good Night, Night Vale, Good Night.


End file.
